


All About Sarge

by Izulkowa, myfailsafe



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, And there's a puppy!, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izulkowa/pseuds/Izulkowa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfailsafe/pseuds/myfailsafe
Summary: Still struggling to heal their minds from the war, Steve and Bucky find themselves in the company of a furry friend.  Though time heals all wounds, sometimes you need something to point you in the right direction to heal properly and speed up the process.  Sometimes, that something, is a puppy with a horrible name.





	All About Sarge

**Author's Note:**

> This was the funnest I've ever had writing a fic. Not to denounce any other artist I've ever worked with; but hands down this was the best collab ever. Not only is THE Izulkowa insanely talented with this beautiful art that she has done, but she's the nicest and most supportive person I've ever had the pleasure to work with. Please bare with us as we figure out posting. We are on the other side of the world from each other so it's a little complicated. I'll have links to her Tumblr first, where our Materpost will be.

[THE ART TO THIS FIC](http://izulkowa.tumblr.com/post/174305988866/for-cap-reverse-big-bang-2018-capreversebb-all) [  
  
ARTIST IN ALL HER AMAZING GLORY  
  
](http://izulkowa.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Steve looked over at the screen of his phone as it went off, Sam’s smirk mocking him as the ringer continued.  He was hesitant to pick it up; Sam was a texting person. Phone calls were usually because something was wrong.  He barely grimaced as he accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear and taking a breath to greet him.

“Cap, it's me, listen I need you to shut up.”

Steve scrunched his face up with one eyebrow coming up, he didn't even get to breathe out.

“I got a big ol’ issue and I need you now.  ASAP. Ten minutes ago actually. My house and hustle.”

The phone call disconnected and without much other explanation Steve immediately panicked.  He snagged his wallet and grabbed his keys on the way out the door, forgetting to scribble a note to Bucky but knew he could text him later.  

He full on ran to Sam’s.  Not much farther from his apartment, it felt as if time gripped him and barely let him slip through its grubby fingers.  

He went to hit the buzzer, praying someone would let him in when he heard his friend calling him from down the alley just next to his building.  

More confusion met Steve when he caught sight of Tony and Peter, the three of them huddled around an opened manhole.

Peter had one foot down the hole, Tony taking one hand and Sam taking the other as they eased the teen down into the system.

“ _What_? Don't put him down there! Jesus, have you guys lost your minds?”

Then he heard it.  The faint, pathetic echo of a small, helpless bark.  Steve's eyes lit up as he looked to Sam who nodded.

Leave it to his friends to save a poor damn puppy stuck in a sewer.

“How did they get down there?” Steve asked as he stepped forward.

“The other two are in the box,” Sam nodded his head towards a ragged cardboard thing that was obviously a quick thought. “They probably stumbled down there after their mom passed.”

“Keys?” Steve asked, needing to get something.  A blanket to keep them warm. A towel to wipe them down.  Something for them to drink.

Sam nodded, “Back right pocket.”

“I'm going to get them water, some towels.  Your old rags still over the dryer?”

Sam nodded as Steve yanked the keys out of his pocket and rushed up to his apartment. He was grabbing things he needed; a bowl of water and a hand full of linens and getting back just as Peter was lowering the newest addition to the box.

They seemed hesitant of the water, clustered together shivering and whining.

“Heard em on my way to Sam’s with Tony to pick up the boxes.  Couldn't let them stay down there.”

“Heart of gold, kid,” Tony said, eyeing the puppies.  

“What are we doing with them?” Sam finally asked.

“I'm in the middle of renovations, hence the boxes.  Pep and I are staying in a hotel. I could probably pay off the hotel and just show Pep the face - she loves little things like that - but not all three.  Peter, you think your Aunt would let one slide?”

“Doubtful.  Unless You say it's a part of my internship.  Like it's a project or something.”

Tony nodded, “I can make that happen.  It's to teach you responsibilities. Sam?”

“What about just taking them all to a shelter, first of all?  What's wrong with that?” Sam asked. He was a little confused his friends were dividing them up so fast.

“You want them shoved in a kill shelter with hopes they end up with a semi-decent family that won't treat them like shit?” Tony asked flatly.  “And let’s not discuss the mother.” Peter suddenly looked unabashedly upset.

Sam blinked rapidly, “While you have a great line of thought with the unfortunate outcome of these guys not having a mom, this building is a no fly zone for animals.  I'll get evicted. Which means someone would get me  _and_  a puppy.”

The three of them had their eyes land on Steve, still toweling off the last puppy with a goofy little smile on his lips.  

“Steve, what's the pet policy at your place?’ Sam asked.

* * *

“You have come a long way.  You've come to terms with your prosthetic and your paranoia has decreased greatly.  The PTSD is still a problem. The anxiety. The flashbacks. You think the medication is helping?”

Bucky’s metal fingers twitched from the anxiety Dr. Banner was speaking of.  

“I do.  It has. Obviously.  I'm not trying to choke out my best friend.”

Bucky frowned at the memory he brought on himself, his fingers tightening around Steve's throat with a blinding rage.  He desperately tried to take the life of the man who saved him. Thank God the orderlies were there. The rest of his hospital stay he was strapped down like a monster.

“Do you think the medication needs to be altered? Or would that be too much?”

“Too much,” Bucky replied quickly.  He hated taking the medication. It was a necessity so he did what he needed to do, but he didn’t want more of the same.   
  
“Well then I think it’s time to talk about alternative treatments again.”    
  
Bucky wanted to roll his eyes or end the appointment then, but he didn’t want to be disrespectful enough to leave.  The military trained him well.    
  
“Any more thoughts on support groups?”   
  
James shook his head before the last word was finished, “Bruce, I’m not going to be triggered into a blackout by a war story in a room full of vets.  I’m not there. I don’t know if I’ll ever be there.”   
  
“I understand, I do, but I have to ask.  Steve convince you to do art therapy yet?”   
  
“We gave it a whirl.”    
  
Steve called it angry painting.  They laid down and hang up some tarps and got the biggest canvas.  Steve filled some balloons with paint and made Bucky throw knives at them as they dangled over the canvas, wood propped up behind the tarps caught the   
sharp points. It was supposed to disassociate the knives from war.  He made him soak wads of cotton balls and chuck them at the canvas. Cover his hands and wave them wildly. They hung it in the living room a week later.    
  
“Kinda,” Bucky shrugged.  It wasn’t the regulated bullshit that Banner wanted Bucky to go to. “I’m open to more of it.”    
  
“Good!” His eyes lit up, typing something quickly in his computer. “Still like your psychiatrist?”   
  
He thought of Shuri’s smirk, her wise words.  He unyielding patience, “Yes, very much.”    
  
“Well, I have a new suggestion to help you in these next steps, seeing the progress you’ve made.  Steady therapy, steady medication, good support network and living with a supportive roommate. I’m going to clear you.”   
  
Bucky raised a brow, his lips pursing as confusion set in. “Clearing me for what?”   
  
Dr. Banner removed his glasses, a smile creasing his lips.  


-0-0-0-0-0-  
  
  
“Yeah Nat, a service dog.  One of those pups that wakes me from nightmares.  Brings me back from blackouts. You think it will help with Steve  _and_  me?” He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, grabbing a frozen dinner and turning on his heel.    
  
“Probably.  They’re trained to help with PTSD, I doubt whatever furball you get will give a damn which of you is having issues, it will just try to help.  I’m excited for you to have a dog that I can’t pet.”   
  
Bucky laughed, heading for the self checkout lanes, “Yeah, no worries yet.  Those things run thousands of dollars. Bruce is going to see if he can find a program or a sponsorship or something.”    
  
“I know you’d rather die than take it but I’ll always help.”   
  
Bucky snorted, pulling the phone away when an incoming call beeped in, “Steve’s calling.  Can I text you?”   
  
“Of course.  And good job on all the progress, James,” She said before hanging up the phone.    
  
He pressed the green button on the screen, “I swear if you changed your mind on dinner you and I are having an out.”   
  
“Well...no.  No, it’s not about my dinner.” Bucky paused, his card hovering at the reader and the woman behind him growing inpatient.    
  
“Did you bring someone home?  I can call Nat back and spend the night there.”   
  
He suddenly had a burning rage race up his arm and beg him to smash the screen.   
  
“You could say that.  But I need you to come home.  Like, not take the long way home and do that whole enjoy the world after therapy walk.”    
  
Bucky waved over the attendant, “Could you cancel this, please?”   
  
“Did you just ask a stranger at a store to do something?” Steve asked with excitement in his voice.    
  
“Yes, mainly because I’m concerned you’ve lost your mind and are trying to get me involved in a threesome.”   
  
The woman and attendant gave the side eye to Bucky before he turned on his heel and left, the fall chill hitting him as soon as he walked out the door.    
  
“I’ll be there soon.  But leave your clothes on.  If this guy is good looking I’ll kick you out myself.”    
  
Steve was laughing when Bucky hung up the phone, but the pursed lips and pinched face was of a man who struggled to joke with that.  His feelings for Steve had to stay platonic. He was warned time and time again that it could get dangerously codependent. They saved each other.  Bucky grew up saving Steve time and time and time again. Steve had saved Bucky from being a POW. Steve had saved Bucky after a horrible IED accident after the rescue.  They had known each other as children and were rarely seen alone. He convinced himself it was normal to be attracted to someone who had saved your life. To be attracted to someone you spent nearly your whole life with.  It was an empty infatuation that formed out of necessity because Steve was the one person who was just always around. That’s what he told himself. Yet jokes like that - any like that or made by their close circle of friends - always stung somewhere deep inside where he didn’t let anyone know.    
  
He had been so lost in thought that when he found himself standing in front of his apartment door he wasn’t sure he wanted to enter.  He took a deep, calming breath. Remembered to count with each breath in and each breath out. To picture his favorite things. It was supposed to calm him.  The dumb breathing bullshit Dr. Banner harped on that Bucky always said was shit. Here he was, praying it would find him solace.    
He slid his key in the lock and jiggled - the old handle in desperate need of a security update - and entered to find the entryway empty.  He looked to the livingroom and found it empty. Then he heard a splash.   
His head tilted back to look towards the ceiling and he closed his eyes as he realized it was coming from the bathroom.  He heard the shower running and more water sloshing around and he took a deep breath in. He needed to rationalize and stop being so damn melodramatic.   
  
Then he heard the bark.   
  
“Yeah!  Yeah, I think he’s here but you’re still dirtier than a city rat after a Giants game.  Settle down, pal.”    
  
“ _Steven_ .” Bucky drawled loudly down the hall.    
  
“ _James_ ,” Steve rebutted in the same tone yet layered with mockery. “Come on.  Get in this wild three way. Electronics in the hall, though. This is getting crazy.”   
  
Bucky took the few steps to get the tiny bathroom.  Sure enough, there was his dearest friend, his shirt drenched and cleaning to him, playing with a precious golden retriever puppy in their shower.    
  
What the fuck?    
  
“What the fuck?” Bucky asked quietly.    
  
“I couldn’t let him go to the shelter Buck,” Steve said turning off the water.  The dog took harmless bites at the now dead shower head before whimpering. “The mom is gone.  They were shivering in the cold.”   
  
“You’re using plural a lot there, pal.”    
  
“Tony and Peter have the others.”   
  
Steve took one of their old towels and scooped the puppy up, rubbing him and ruffling his face to engage the dog in play.  His eyes screamed smitten. Steve took the two small steps it took to cover the bathroom, suddenly looking apprehensive.    
  
He held up the dog, giving Bucky a good look at its face.  The dog tried to paw at Bucky but he took a step back.    
  
“Steve we can’t just take in a puppy.”   
  
“Sure we can.”   
  
“Steve, we are two really fucked up individuals who are so wrapped up in work and making sure our mental wellbeing is just shy of decent we would never have the time to be good owners.”    
  
Steve’s eyes were turning to pleading, retracting his arms and returning the dog to his chest.  He bent one wrist awkwardly to pet the puppies head and Bucky noticed its eyes were drooping.    
  
“Steve…”   
  
“Buck, just give it a chance.”    
  
“Steve I was approved for a service dog.  A dog that is trained to help people like us.  You can’t just throw another puppy in the mix. One dog is here to work the other just wants to shit and play.”   
  
“Well how long until you get your service dog?”   
  
“I don’t know, what’s that got to do with it?”   
  
“Let’s just watch him for now.”  Steve held up a hand to stop Bucky from continuing on when he saw his lips part. “In the meantime we can work on getting the service dog and I’ll work on getting Sarge a home.”   
  
Bucky’s lip curled, “You named it Sarge? Really?”   
  
“See, you do care.”   
  
Bucky rolled his eyes, “No.  I’m just still so shocked that you still can't give out a decent name if it smacked you upside the head.  Can we name him something else? Another rank that I didn't hold?”    
  
There was a very lengthy silence where the puppy dosed in Steve’s arms and the two men locked eyes in a silent battle of wills. Steve would win.  He always did. Bucky could never say no. Fuck he wish he could say no.    
  
“ _Fine_ .” Bucky relented, watching as Steve produced a small fist pump.    
  
“But I’m serious Steve.  The service dog.”    
  
“I know, I know.  But thank you Buck.  This will be great. I promise.  You’ll barely know he’s here. After this, you know, one thing I need your help with.    
  
-0-0-0-0-0-  
  
“So eight weeks old,” Steve says cradling the puppy, not letting his feet hit the ground.

“Let the dog walk, Rogers.  It has paws, for fuck sake.”

Steve glared, “You heard the vet.  He isn't vaccinated through all the series.  He could get sick.”

“I'm gonna get you one of them baby harnesses so you can carry him strapped to your chest,” Bucky muttered, his eyes wondering the shelves as he pushed the cart.  He had never owned a dog. When he and Steve were growing up, neither of their families could afford something like that. An extra expense. Now he was staring at aisles of shit he didn't even know dogs could have.

“We need pee pads, and the poop bags,” Steve said as he nodded towards the items.

“Jesus, you'd think you lost an arm in the war,” Bucky bitched under his breath, having Steve kick at his ankles.  Bucky still grabbed the things and dumped them into the cart.

“Alright. What else is on that list?’

“Leash, collar, harness,” Steve muttered, his eyes looking up at the aisle signs to figure out where they were. “Bowls.  Bed. Food.”

“For fostering this sure seems like a hell of an investment.”

“I'll pay for it,” Steve said absently, holding a collar up to the puppy like he was seeing what would look best on him.

Bucky watched helplessly as Steve smiled a small little look of joy at the red collar he linked around the puppy.  He gave a little bark like he was approving and it made the big dope smile bigger.

Bucky mentally cursed.  They weren't fostering shit.  They just adopted a dog.

Sarge was the King of the castle when they got home.  The Benadryl from the vet wore off and he was romping about with all his new toys contently, his attention span not staying with one for longer than a few seconds.  Then he'd remember Steve was sitting on the floor with him and he stumble over for a few good scratches before stumbling to something else.

Though this was all taking place in the kitchen now since Sarge just pissed on the living room carpet, and half the box of puppy pads were their new flooring.  

Bucky tried to glare.  He wanted to be standing on the other side of these stupid baby gates and be pissed as hell.  He wanted a certified, trained and ready service dog. He wanted that safety net. A comfort for those times he was alone and a panic attack would set in and he thought he was dying.  A trained pet to help him find comfort. Instead he had this puppy that walked like a drunk and had the attention span of a fish and barked when he caught sight of something new - which was everything.  He wanted to be mad and hate the thing.

“You look more like you're falling asleep than pissed off, Barnes.” Steve jested from the floor, smiling with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Bucky didn't have a good rebuttal.  It was hard not to smile at that damn dog.  He was just so happy.

“Because I am,” was all he could manage.  “I'm going to hit the hay.”

“Night, Buck.  And-”

Bucky held up a hand, “Don't thank me.  That will mean you won and we aren't there just yet.”

That caused Steve to laugh which caused Sarge to bark ending with Bucky smiling as he tossed his hands in the air.  “And don’t sleep in the fucking kitchen on the floor, Rogers.”

That continued the laughter from Steve, which carved a smile on Bucky's lips as he took a few steps down the hall to his room.

He could hear Steve talking to Sarge like a baby.

“Bucky is just cranky.  He'll come around. Yes.  Yes he will. He's a grouch. We will make him come around, huh?”

Bucky laid in bed, his eyes dancing across the ceiling and embarrassed by how happy he found himself.  How joyous it was to hear Steve talk to that puppy and how much he lit up without pushing it to seem like it.  That was genuine joy that came from Steve, the first real dose Bucky glanced since they had been home.

Bucky looked at his night stand where he dropped all the papers and pamphlets Dr. Banner gave him about service dogs and sighed.  Looked like he wasn't getting that help anytime soon.

  
-0-0-0-0-0-  


The puppy was whining.  Obnoxiously high pitched and without so much as a break to seemingly breathe. Like a bad signal on a walkie or radio.  He probably needed to pee but that was Steve's job. The luxury of the first floor living would have him out and in quickly enough.  If the asshole would just wake up and do his job.

Bucky grumbled as he sat up, the whining getting more high pitched.  Both Bucky and Steve were horrendously light sleepers since the war, save for the times they let themselves relax.  Yet when they relaxed and fell into a deep sleep, nightmares always followed.

He flipped the covers off of him and didn't bother with a shirt, just slipped out of bed in only his boxers.  He moved swiftly towards the kitchen to see the puppy, his face pressed against the gate and whining in the direction of Steve.  The big lug fell asleep outside the kitchen, his pillow and blanket dragged out here. He was stripped down to his boxers, the blanket tangled around him from his tossing, the pillow barely cradling his head.  
Yet his jaw was clenched unbelievably tight, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and desperate groans coming from deep in his chest.  Bucky wasn't sure how he hadn't heard this.

Steve's lips cracked and he let out of pathetic gasp, Bucky kneeling and putting his fingers through Steve's hair.  It always soothed him when he was a kid. Bucky had seen Sarah do it when Steve was laid up sick in bed and he simply copied her.

His hand traced the curve of his cheek before coming to gently rouse him with a small shake of the shoulder.  The puppies cries immediately halted once Steve's eyes cracked open. Steve took in a large gasp of air, bolting up with Bucky just out of the way.  He’d done this enough to know Steve was a harsh reactor. Plus one bloody nose from trying to help your friend teaches you quick. Bucky reached out slowly, Steve breathing harshly like he had been choked.  He placed his hand on his shoulder and Steve turned those wild blue eyes to him with panic in them.   
  
Steve’s eyes flicked to Bucky’s prosthetic and the brunette flexed the fingers, “I’m okay.  It was a nightmare.”   
  
“It was a memory,” Steve choked out.     
  
“I’m okay,” Bucky said gently.  Steve had that firely look in his eyes that said he was ready to fight the world.  “Come on, up.”    
  
Bucky rose first, nudging Steve with his foot to try and jest, but Steve was still just stuck in his memory.  He hated when Steve got stuck there, overseas in a different time when things went wrong.    
He turned and looked down at the puppy, frowning.  He wanted to dislike this puppy. He did. He wanted to be excited for the time to come when he got the service dog and they gave the puppy to a good home and all was good with their little world.  Yet this little shit just screwed Bucky’s entire plan up.   
  
“Come on,” He bent down and scooped the puppy up.    
  
Sarge had already gone to the bathroom on the pads, so that would buy him time.  He grabbed a few extra puppy pads from the box and turned from Steve.    
He walked down the short hallway and instead of turning left into his room, he turned right into Steve’s.  He walked over and set the puppy on the bed, listening to him whine when he realized he couldn’t get down because he didn’t know how.    
Steve was standing just outside the doorway looking perplexed as Bucky walked across the hall, grabbed a pillow and a blanket and walked right the fuck back into Steve’s room.  He tossed his pillow on the bed, flicking the blacket out to have it coast down on the puppy who rummaged and barked under it.    
  
Bucky laid out the puppy pads before turning to look at Steve, his eyebrows raised, “You comin?”   
  
Steve hesitated for a fraction of a second before pointing back from where they had come, “I gotta get my stuff.”   
  
Bucky nodded, climbing onto the bed and poking the barking lump as he maneuvered around him towards the wall.  He laid his head down and turned on his side, flipping the blanket off the dog and onto himself, feinting a gasp when the puppy looked   
around in surprise.    
  
“What the hell happened, Sarge?  Shit got weird, didn’t it?”    
  
The puppy kept yapping at him, coming over with his tongue out, licking Bucky’s face and causing the brunette to laugh.  Steve stood in the doorway, watching his best friend with silent adoration.  He always relished in the tiny moments he could catch an unguarded moment to just unabashedly love Bucky without him ever knowing.    
  
The way he lay there, his hair a mess on his pillow and in his face.  His smile as infectious as it has always been, with laughter to make a flutter always come to life in Steve’s stomach.   Even with the scars on Bucky’s exposed skin, Steve saw nothing but a perfect body that he secretly worshiped.  Every cut and dip of muscle, the perfect tone of skin - all of it.  He’d been infatuated with Bucky since the second he laid eyes on him.  Some kid who saved his ass when he was getting his own handed to him, because Steve couldn’t let anyone get bullied.  Bucky had called him a hot head. That had pissed Steve off, which was the point in hindsight. Steve tried to not take his eyes off of him sense.  He had lost sight of him when he was captured. He lost sight of him when the IED detonated. He would never lose sight of him again.    
  
The puppy barked, snapping Steve out of it, making Bucky turn up a little smile.    
  
“You gunna sleep standing in the hallway?  Sarge won’t stand for it.”   
  
The puppy barked a few more times, almost in agreement, causing both men to laugh.  It took some finagling for Steve to get on the bed with the puppy getting so excited that he was going to be on the bed too.   
Steve turned on his side away from Bucky,facing the closed door out of sheer habit.  The silence stretched between them, Bucky thinking that maybe Steve finally relaxed enough to go back to sleep.  He hadn’t heard the puppy and assumed the excitement finally caught up to the little guy.    
  
“I hate remembering,” Steve said gently. “How you looked strapped on that table when I found you.  Watching that damn IED detonate. All the blood. All  _your_  blood.   I hate remembering that feeling.  I saw the blast and my ears rang and there was that moment where I realized even though I just got you back, you were gone.  I couldn’t go get you back from a blast. You were there one second and the next…”  Steve wrapped his fingers in his hair, gripping his bangs like he could tug the memories from his brain.    
  
The puppy whined.   
  
“But I’m here. I know it won’t make the memories disappear Steve, I do. It doesn’t make them disappear for me, either.  But you have to remember I’m here. I’m alive. I’m okay.”   
  
The brunette scooted closer to Steve, watching the way his bare back muscles tensed from the movement.  Bucky tentatively brought his arm up and draped it over him, his hand resting on Steve's bicep before he pressed his forehead to Steve’s upper back.   
  
“I’m here,” Bucky whispered.    
  
That’s how the stars looked down to find the trio that night.  Steve with his fingers curled in his own hair, Bucky holding him, knowing only his physical touch could reassure him.  The puppy, absolutely exhausted, collapsed against Steve as the three of them slept. This time with no nightmares to chase them awake.  

* * *

  
The puppy woke them up about four hours later.  The sun was still cresting it was so early and usually the two of them indulged with sleeping in just a little on Saturday.  Sarge was not having it. At least his bladder and the fact that he was stuck atop some giant thing he couldn’t get down from, was not having it.   
  
Steve didn’t bother opening his eyes, he reached over and scooped the dog next to his side in a calming manner.  He was the most comfortable he had been in a long time. Warm, relaxed and damn near able to fall back asleep. Something was soothing about listening to Bucky’s soft little snores, the warm breath that hit his cheek.  His prosthesis, despite the cool metal, felt like a comforting weight across his chest.    
  
The puppy whined again and it seemed as if that was the last connecting shock his brain needed to come to.  He was on his back and he turned his face sharply to find himself a breath away from Bucky’s face. Steve’s shoulder was pressed against Bucky’s chest, the brunette’s arm never moving from comforting Steve despite Steve’s movement - still draped over him. Bucky’s hair was still a mess, his breath horrible and there was a little dried drool on his face.    
Steve felt like he had never looked more perfect.  A little moment of peacefulness is how Steve saw him.  Simply relaxed. Unguarded. Wonderfully warm and alive. Right here, holding Steve, making the blond’s heart drum against his chest in excitement.  The perfect dream that Steve fantasized about time and time again. The relationship that he always wanted where he’d find himself in this very predicament every morning, waking up with him in the same bed.  Warm and happy and in love.    
The puppy whined again and the moment came crashing down on Steve.   
  
Both of them topless, in bed, morning wood singing the same song it sang every morning.  A horrifyingly awkward moment. Something that could strip away the serendipity that they had come to find themselves in.  Steve slipped out from Bucky’s arm and the brunette began to wake up from the jostling, but he managed to roll on his back as Steve rolled to sit up.    
  
“I can’t wait for his bladder to be as big as his fucking mouth,” Bucky grumbled, shielding his eyes and trying to settle back in to sleep.    
Steve rushed the puppy out of the room, tucking the furball under his arm and hustling ass outside to hopefully have the dog finally go where he was supposed to.  The second Steve sat him down to put his leash on him, the puppy instantly went. Steve let out a long held breath and dropped his head.   
  
At least it was hardwood and not carpet.    
  
He got the paper towels and the cleaner and the wetjet and set to work, still needing to relieve himself and the puppy trying to play with him.    
Bucky shuffled out, stopping at the bathroom and coming to the front room just as Steve was putting the cleaning supplies up, the brunette grimacing.   
  
“Didn’t get out the front door?”   
  
Steve shook his head, “No.  Next time I won’t set him down to put on the leash.”    
  
Bucky laughed as Steve walked past him in a hurry, kicking the bathroom door shut and making Bucky laugh harder.    
  
“You could at least cooperate enough so the man himself can pee.”   
  
The puppy barked up at Bucky, making the brunette laugh. “Let me guess.  You now need to eat.”    
  
Bucky was dumping some kibble in Sarge’s bowl and cleaning up the mess in the kitchen from the night before when Steve came back around, this time with a shirt.  It made Bucky feel self conscious, like he should go jam one over himself, too. Yet he continued on, laying out new puppy pads and leading the puppy into the kitchen where he could be kept a close eye on.    
  
He was head first and one foot in his bowl when he started scarfing it down, Bucky laughing and shaking his head.   
  
“It’s like you when you’re drunk.”    
  
Steve chuckled with a roll of his eyes as he stepped over the baby gate, “I can eat like a civilized person.”    
  
“Says you.  Eggs and toast for breakfast?”   
  
“Sounds amazing.”    
  
Bucky bent down and yanked a pan out from under the sink, plopping it on the stove and turning towards the fridge.    
  
“Thank you, Buck.”    
  
“I literally make breakfast every Saturday.  Don’t sound so humbled.”    
  
Steve huffed out a small chuckle, leaning up against the counter like he did every Saturday morning while Bucky set about breakfast.   
  
“I meant about last night.”   
  
Bucky barely hesitated before the shrug, but Steve caught it. “Don’t thank me for that, Steve.  I hate when you do that.”    
  
“I know.  I know, but you staying with me.  It always makes the pressure in my chest ease.”   
  
Bucky looked out the corner of his eye, “Thanks for not kicking me to the floor.  Shit is murder on my back.”    
  
“It was nice.”   
  
Steve instantly wanted to grab the words from the air and swallow them back down.  He wanted to rewind time and just keep his damn thoughts to himself. He wanted to will the redness to leave his face but the thought alone made the heat kick up.    
There were a few uncomfortable beats of silence while Bucky gently stirred the eggs to a scramble in the pan and the puppy chased the last few bits of kibble around the floor.     
  
Bucky finally nodded, “I’m glad.  I thought it was going to make you uncomfortable.”    
  
Steve made a small noise of disagreement in the back of his throat, “I just spent the night reliving you strapped to a table and then blown up, on a loop.  You’re lucky I didn’t hug you to death.”    
Sarge barked up at the pair as Bucky continued stirring the eggs and Steve plunged the bread into the toaster.    
  
“That’s right buddy, you tell him.”   
  
Steve laughed, enjoying how Bucky engaged the dog like he was just another guy in the house.   
  
“Alright, enough sass from the both of ya’s.”    
  
Bucky laughed, the puppy barked, and all was right in their world.    


* * *

  
Steve wasn’t a fan of therapy.  He knew it was a necessary step to take in the bettering of himself and leaving the war behind him.  Yet he wasn’t a fan of talking about it all. He didn’t like facing any of it all over again. It was bad enough with the nightmares.    
  
“So now you have a puppy,” Bruce said, finishing up Steve’s tale.    
  
“Well, we’re fostering.”   
  
Bruce actually laughed, “Steve, you and I both know you aren’t fostering.”    
  
“I’d like to think we are.”    
  
Bruce laughed again, “Why?  If you’ve found something that you and Bucky can agree upon that works for the both of you, embrace that you have a dog.  Pets are great therapy tools. They’ve been shown to help vets coming back from the war. Something else to focus on and take care of.  That’s not to say you are allowed to slack on self care.”   
  
Steve nodded, his heart rate picking up a little.  The idea of him and Bucky keeping the dog. It made a smile pull at his lips.    
  
“How are your flashbacks been?  I know you mentioned this nightmare wasn’t the first one.  How many have you had since we last spoke?”   
  
“Flashbacks are less, during the day.  Only one. Sam called me about the puppies, but he was so vague and so urgent my anxiety kicked me back to when Sam called me about Riley.”   
  
“That was Sam’s partner?”   
  
Steve nodded, “But I’ve had a nightmare about Bucky almost every night.”   
  
“Almost? Was there a night you didn’t?  How many nightmares? One or multiple?”   
  
“Only one, every night,” Steve said, his voice flattening.  “I had one last night, but once I got back to sleep there was nothing.  Just four hours of sleep.”   
  
“That is good progress, though.  You’ve gone from not sleeping and-or multiple nightmares to one.  I know it doesn’t feel like progress, but that is. You've also never been able  to get back to sleep. That's great progress!”   
  
Steve nodded, but didn’t take the encouragement.  Bruce continued.    
  
“Are you still checking on Bucky when you wake up?”   
  
Steve had done it every night he had a nightmare since the two of them finally could sleep in separate rooms.  The nightmare would be so realistic he’d walk across the hall and as quietly as humanly possible, he’d crack the door and look in on Bucky.  It   
would calm him. Let his mind settle down. It would remind himself that Bucky made it back.   
  
“Only twice.”    
  
“ _More_  progress.” Bruce beamed. “Now you said only once you had peaceful sleep.  I know you said you had a nightmare prior but then you were able to get back to sleep. Just a nice deep sleep.  You remember what it is that got you that calm? Was this before or after the dog?”   
  
“After.”   
  
Bruce shrugged with a smile, “Perhaps the puppy is already helping.”   
  
Steve nodded, not sure how he could say it was when he fell asleep with Bucky.  It was the calmest he felt since he had been back. Curled up with him and enveloped in his warmth.     
  
“Yeah, probably the puppy.”   
  
“Good, whatever interactions you had with the puppy that caused you to calm and sleep, you should try to replicate that.  See if it will help.” Bruce smiled, “You’ll be living on your own before you know it.”   
  
Steve hated hearing that.  He never liked facing that very real possibility.  He never liked the idea of him and Bucky living separately. He usually regressed into himself whenever it was brought up.  He wanted to cling to that very morning like it was his lifeline. Waking up in the same bed, contently together as another day came upon them.  Feeling his warmth, the tickle of his breath on his cheek and the obnoxiousness of his snores. He wanted that. Every day forever.    
  
“Now I know you don’t want to be alone,” Bruce said gently, noticing the mood change. “But that was the goal when the two of you came home.  To get you two your own lives.”    
_  
He is my life _ . Steve wanted to say, but he just nodded.    
  
Bruce gave him a silent look, giving him the opportunity to say something, but Steve chose to remain silent.    
  
“Keep doing everything you’re doing Steve.  It’s working.”    
  
-0-0-0-0-0-  
  
“How’d it go?” Bucky asked absently, sitting on the ground with a book in one hand and a dog toy in the other.  Sarge was enthralled.   
  
“It went,” Steve muttered.     
  
Bucky’s eyes flicked up, a frown forming. “What’s wrong?”   
  
Steve stepped over the baby gate, coming to sit down on the floor next to Bucky.  He had moved the puppy to the living room, risking the carpet but it seemed the puppy pads gave him a piece of mind.    
  
“Nothing is wrong.  I’m making progress.  Said keep doing what I’m doing.”   
  
Bucky let his book close and set it between them. “Then why do you sound so gone?”   
  
Steve let out a long sigh, “I just hate therapy, Buck.  You know that.”    
  
“I do.”    
  
“I want to just take a nap.”    
  
“Then go nuts.  I can keep this beast tame for an hour or two.  Or he looks like he could technically join you.”    
  
The puppy was sitting, his eyes sliding closed and every time he wobbled his eyes would snap open.  He was exhausted. Steve could relate.    
  
“I can’t sleep after therapy.  You remember what happened last time.”    
  
Bucky could never forget.  Steve had just started screaming.  This horrible, soul crushing scream.  A scream that ended up having the cops called to their home.  It was a humiliating experience for Steve. It was a moment of pure helplessness for Bucky.    
  
“Alright.  Well then, it’s movie time.”   
  
Steve gave him a glare, knowing Bucky’s ploy.  Steve was notorious for falling asleep during movies.    
  
Bucky laughed at the look and it was hard for Steve not to lose the scowl.  “Okay, okay. What would you like to do to get your mind right?”   
_  
Fall back asleep in your arms _ , Steve thought. “I don’t know, to be frank.”    
  
“Perfect.  Sarge!” The puppy barked at the large uptick in noise, still not knowing his name.  “Duty calls. Double time, soldier. We have a fellow brother-in-fatigue in need of some R &R.  Put him down!”    
  
Bucky shoved at Steve’s shoulder, the puppy barking again and the blond laughing.   
  
“He’s a tough son of a bitch, Rogers.  You  _sure_  you want to take it up with him and not just simply go take a nap?”   
  
Bucky pushed Steve again, the puppy lumbering over to the pair and stumbling over Steve’s folded legs and barking more when the guys started laughing.    
  
“Yes, Sarge!  Attack! Take em out!  Make him regret the day he didn’t nap when he was tired!”   
  
The puppy was barking at their laughter and their shoving, Bucky next taking the opening to poke a certain rib that always made Steve lose it laughing.    
  
The blond sat up straight before leaning away from Bucky and grabbing the dog like he was shielding him, “James, don’t you even dare.”   
  
“Did you just  _James_ , me?”    
  
“Yes.”   
  
“I swear to God I will launch a full scale attack if you don’t go rest.”    
  
“I will call you James for the rest of our foreseeable future if you make me sleep,” Steve countered.    
  
The brunette tossed his hands up, “Then looks like we are going to have to take the puppy for a walk.  Wear you down.”   
  
Steve sighed a little, “I’m already worn down.”    
  
Bucky was a beat away from glaring at him.   He was considering knocking him the fuck out.  But he would never hurt the big blond lug.    
  
“What can I do to help?” Bucky asked softly.   
  
Steve shrugged, “I don’t know.  Bruce told me to keep doing what I’m doing.  Do whatever it is I did in order to get good sleep when I finally got it..  But I can’t.”   
  
Buck pursed his lips, “Why the hell can’t you?”   
  
“Because,” Steve huffed, then rolled his eyes.  He felt the blush trying to enter his cheeks. He was going to get frustrated. He was going to run his mouth.    
  
Bucky rolled his hand in the air, “ _Because_ …”   
  
“Just let it go, Buck.”    
  
“No.  I want to help you.”   
  
“I can help myself,” Steve sighed.    
  
“Clearly you won’t, though.  There is something there that’s getting you to sleep and you aren’t using it to your advantage.”    
  
“The only time I slept without a flicker of a memory was when I was sleeping with you and Sarge in my bed.  So unless you and the dog plan on piling in there for me to catch an hour of sleep, I suggest you drop this entire thing.”    
  
Bucky’s eyebrows had shot up.  Steve wasn’t sure if it was because he decided to run his mouth with a bit of an attitude (which Bucky hated) or the sheer fact that Steve’s only good sleep was when they were sleeping together.    
  
There was one beat.  Two beats. Three beats.    
  
Silence.    
  
Steve’s lips cracked as he formed a snarky comment but Bucky chased it away.   
  
“Okay.  Let’s go.”   
  
He silenced that bratty little comment that was wrapped around Steve’s tongue with a quip of nonchalant air.     
  
“Excuse me?” Was all Steve could manage.    
  
“We’re both grown adults.  We can share a bed. We did it hours ago.  You think it bothers me?”   
  
Steve shrugged before slowly nodding.    
  
“Steve, it was my idea.  If it bothered me I wouldn’t have taken over your bed with a puppy at three in the morning.”   
  
One breath.  Two breath. Three breaths hanging in the air.     
  
Bucky’s eyes were watching him with guarded impatience.  Steve wanted to double check. Bucky would tell him to shut the fuck up.  Half the times it seemed like they didn’t have to bother with conversation.  Looks alone between the two of them - these two who knew each other so perfectly - usually could transcend spoken words and carry them forward. They would bicker.  Steve would listen to Bucky.

  
Steve’s fatigue climbed atop his shoulders and pushed him down.     
  
“Fine,” He whispered, his eyes flicking away.    
  
Sarge was starting to fall asleep sitting up again when Bucky and Steve stood, startling him.  Bucky bent forward to scoop him up, cradling him to his chest and feeling the loaded weight of a relaxed dog.  Sarge would probably be asleep before they made it to Steve’s room.   
  
Bucky led the way once more, his pillow still tucked in the back corner.  

He put Sarge on the bed like he did that very morning, but this time he wasn't ready to play.  He laid down where he was put, curling up and letting out a big huff.

“Tough life, yeah?”

Bucky shook his head when the puppy had his eyes shut and he seemed to find sleep that quickly.

Bucky didn't hesitate after that and climbed on the bed, maneuvering around Sarge who didn't care to waste energy to move.  

Bucky pulled the dog to his stomach while Steve slipped on to the bed, inching back until Bucky's arm finally came to rest over him.  He felt the brunette rest his forehead to the top of his back and slowly his arm got heavier as he relaxed.   
“You have to learn to just ask for help,” Bucky said suddenly.  “Stop trying to do shit on your own. You don't have to.”

Steve remained silent.  It was the same song and dance that they've gone through since the beginning.  

“I know, Buck.”

“I know you do.  Now put actions behind the words.  The whole point of us moving in together was to help each other.  So ask for the damn help, Steve.”

There was a small moment of calm quiet with just the puppy snoring as noise.  Brooklyn seemed to fade out. Steve shut his eyes like it would make a difference.  

Steve wondered if Bucky could feel his heart rate going wild.  

He could practically hear Bruce. “ _You took a step forward and let your codependency drag you two feet back_.”

“ _It isn't codependency, Bruce.  It's bigger than that._ ” He always wanted to say.  The words always got stuck.    
  
Steve could feel the warmth of Bucky’s breath on his back, warm against his t-shirt and seeping to his skin.  Steve wanted to arch back into his lips, feel them against his bare back with hot kisses mapping out his skin.    
Steve blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to chase that thought away.  He focused on the pressure of Bucky’s forehead against his upper back. He took the time to appreciate the weight of Bucky’s arm over his, holding him loosely, like some sort of human shield.  It settled his mind. He slipped asleep before he realized what was happening. He didn’t have much time to fret over nightmares. He simply woke a couple hours later. He and Bucky both awoke to the sound of the puppy whining with urgency, needing to get down and go outside.  If Steve could make it.    
  
“The amazing race,” Bucky called after Steve, who had hustled with the pup out of the room.  “Whole new meaning when you have a puppy.” 

* * *

  
The next few months brought about a lot of change.    
  
Bucky enrolled in school and his classes started soon.  So now he was working and going to class. Spare time was often sparse, but it was worth it.  He was back to where he wanted to be when this all started. Back to making something of himself.  He was on track to make a life for him and Steve. Something with security, and that started with a career.    
  
He loved working with Tony, truly.  Even though the guy could be an obnoxious asshole, the pay was good and the people were great.  He got to help design prosthetics for people in need. People like him. He wanted to make his own path, not ride on some coattails.    
  
At home, it was different.  Not in a bad, disparaging way.  It had been good. Steve was still working with Sam, helping manage the VA.  Steve got to bring Sarge along, the pooch acting as a comfort for those who needed it.  There hadn’t been a soul who didn’t smile when they saw him. Sarge for his part was downright ecstatic that so many people wanted to give him attention and play with him.    
  
The pup was growing like a weed.  It seemed like every time they showed up at the vet for his routine shots, Sarge managed to gain a ton of weight.  Steve or Bucky could barely keep up. He was like a bumbling teenager, all stretched out and still getting a   
feel for their frame.  There was only one single, solitary downfall to Sarge growing as he was. That was the sleeping arrangements.    
  
The sleeping together had been a slow crawl.   
  
That first fateful afternoon they crawled into Steve’s bed, Bucky behind him with his arm draped over Steve.  The two of them approached it like they had been doing it this way every day for years.   
Yet that night, Bucky retired to his room when he had told Steve he was tired and heading to bed.    
  
“I’m just exhausted,” Bucky explained.   
  
Steve nodded, “Okay, Buck.  Just get some rest. I’ll make sure I keep Sarge quet.”   
  
Bucky waited.  He stared at him like he could transmit his thoughts directly into his brain.    
  
He could hear the clock from the kitchen.    
  
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.    
  
“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning,” He said gently, his eyes breaking contact and he walked past Steve.   
  
Bucky wanted Steve to asked him to sleep in the bed with him.  He needed it. It made him fear Steve could feel it. Could catch on to it. The obviousness of Bucky’s feelings towards him.  How Bucky pooled all his feelings to that moment, his arm slung over Steve and straining not to tug him close. Desperately waring with himself not to press his lips to Steve’s back.  How he laid behind him struggling internally with those things. He just needed Steve to ask him so he could lay the fears to rest that Steve was silently rejecting him.   
  
So Bucky grabbed his stuff from Steve’s room and went across the hall.  He laid awake most of the night, not able to fall asleep. He wanted to walk across the hall and slip into Steve’s bed.  He settled for getting up and going to the living room, maybe watch some television until Steve woke up.    
  
“Buck?”    
  
The brunette turned, finding a baby gate in Steve’s doorway and the door wide open.     
  
“What are you doing awake?” Bucky asked into the darkness.   
  
Steve shrugged, Bucky making out the outline of his body.  He could see Sarge cuddled up next to him, no doubt out cold for the moment.    
Bucky hesitated for a moment, but Steve was over it.  He was tired, yet he was scared to sleep.    
  
“You wanna sleep in here?”   
  
So Bucky grabbed his pillow and blanket and went back to Steve’s room, crawling up from the bottom of the bed carefully. He didn’t want to wake the puppy.    
He stuffed his pillow on the bed and sloppily covered himself with the blanket before laying down. Steve had turned to face him and they almost bumped noses.  They were suddenly so close. Bucky clenched his fist. He slowly pulled away because if he didn’t, he’d just lean in and kiss him.  All the things that until this moment held him back be damned. He swallowed and he was vaguely aware how loud it sounded.  Yet right here, this second with only city lights leaking through blinds to light his friends’ face, did he find his power of restraint tested.  A small slant of light cut across Steve's right eye, that gorgeous blue peeking through like a warm sky after a dark storm.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered, trying to divert his brain from the proximity of Steve.

Steve's eyes flickered around Bucky's face, the blond warring with himself and himself alone.  He turned over intent on just kissing Bucky. He was dead set on putting it all out there. Yet facing him brought all the old thoughts up.

_You almost lost him once.  You want to chase him away because you can’t control your feelings all of a sudden?  You wanna throw away a life long friendship because of something you couldn’t get under control?_

_He's your friend, he doesn't see you like that. He'll never look at you the same._

_He'll be uncomfortable around you from here on out._

_You'll lose your bond - your friendship because you're being selfish._

But the urge died in his chest as the air left him.  It was strange turning over and finding himself so close to Bucky, the two of them curled up in bed together.

“Just couldn't sleep..”

 _Without you_ , he wanted to say.

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Try again.  I got you.”

Steve let his eyes slid shut, “Then who has you?”

Bucky looked over Steve's closed eyes, his lips parted but he pressed them together again.  

Over time it was easier.  Over the days and the weeks it became more natural.  No more of them questioning their arrangements. No more needing invitations and words.

Despite Bucky's tight schedule which made time together difficult to obtain, they now had their time together at night.  Curled together in Steve's small bed, their puppy curled up with them.

Then there was Sarge.  The bumbling bundle of fur that was growing constantly.  It made the small bed even smaller. Yet the three of them seemed to find a regimen that worked for them.  Bucky was usually first up and last to bed, so that typically meant he was taking Sarge for his morning walks and feeding him breakfast.  Except on the weekends when Steve would make him catch up on sleep. Bucky usually walked him before bed because as much as Sarge loved Steve, he had a tendency to come out into the living room to check on Bucky when he and Steve were ready for bed.

As Sarge got older, things got easier.  He learned his name. He could now come when he was called (unless he was really comfortable).  He knew the word speak, which always made Steve and Bucky smile. The best part was how in-tune he was to his humans.  His bumbling mess of humans that he loved and adored.

While Bucky still thought about the therapy dog from time to time, he knew Sarge was the best thing to happen to him and Steve since they got back.  He seemed to pick up more and more on their emotions. He was always there when something wasn't going right. When Steve would come home from therapy or Bucky was feeling the pressure from work or school.  When Steve had a rough day at the VA or Bucky was having phantom limb pains. Sarge always knew. Steve would be quiet and withdrawn and here Sarge would come, stumbling over to Steve with his favorite toy. Sometimes he'd just lay at his feet or across his lap.  At night when Bucky would be pouring over school work and the daunting thoughts would creep in, Sarge would appear at his side and start pawing at him obnoxiously. He'd stay with him for a few moments while Bucky would pet him before he'd lumber off back to bed. He'd stay with Steve during the day and often times would be his reality check.  Sometimes the VA was more mentally challenging than Steve would ever let on because he'd always try to save everyone else before saving himself. Yet every time he'd think his memories or his anxiety would win, Sarge was there. The yappy and fun loving pup would bump into him or demand his attention and Steve's thoughts would calm.

The only place Sarge couldn't go was therapy.  So Steve often found his anxiety to be the worst there, in Bruce's office, facing memories and futures he didn't want to acknowledge.  

“You've had Sarge for a few months now.  We've discussed at length how he's helped with your anxiety.  So now we need to discuss the next steps in your treatment.”

Even though Steve nodded, he was internally screaming.  He knew what the conversation would entail. He knew where it would lead.  He knew damn well he couldn't avoid it.

“We are at the point in treatment where we need to start taking more steps forward now that you're comfortable where you stand.  We've touched on you moving out here and there. How do you feel about the process?”

“Not great,” Steve responded instantly.  “I don't have any viewpoints where this is positive.”

“Okay, that's fair.  Do you want me to give you viewpoints?”   
“Not really, but you should anyway.  Right?”

Bruce chuckled, “Right.  Your making great strides and this is the next step.  We have been working towards the day where you can be by yourself.  This is where we put all the tools that you learned from therapy to use.  It's time to move forward with your life. Time to branch out and meet new people. It's time to live without that life revolving around Bucky.  It's time for you to go get dependence.”

Steve fell silent.  He hated this conversation.

“Tell me what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinking that it doesn't seem like a big deal.  What Bucky and I are doing? It works for us. I don't see the problem.”

Bruce took a moment, “Which is why I'm here.  While you might not see a problem, how do you think Bucky feels?  He's doing well. He's working steadily, he's back in school and his attention is on the future.  Do you want to divert his attention?”

“Of course not.”

“Do you think you are?”

“I...of course n...I mean.  I don't think I am.”

Bruce leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he leveled his eyes with Steve's.

“You and Bucky are making great strides to better yourselves.  But you two hold each other back. You need to learn to let Bucky go.  You need to give him space and you need to give yourself that same luxury.  You can't keep holding him back because you're nervous about what can and can't happen.”

Steve felt his eyebrows bunch together, “You think I'm holding him back?”

Bruce sighed, “Yes.  I do. Bucky is trying to go forward.  You are content standing still. If you plan on not moving forward, you should think of him and let him keep moving.  You have to stop holding him back.”

Steve's shoulders fell.  All the tension left him with a feeling of surrender.  Surely he wasn't selfish enough to ruin his best friends life?  Yet it was because of Steve and his night terrors that he was curled up in bed with Bucky every night.  Bucky had been on his way to getting a therapy dog and then Steve rushed in with a puppy from the sewer.  All of Bucky’s free time - what little he had - was usually dedicated to Steve. Did Bucky feel like he  _had_  to?  Did he want to?  Steve felt that mounting panic like watching a wave peak, knowing it was coming right for you and knowing you had nowhere to run.  Everything was crashing down with realization after realization.    
  
“I'm not saying get rid of Bucky from your life. I think in learning to let him go though, I think you can learn to move on yourself.  Your grieving someone who hasn’t died. It’s time to finish the process and move on with your life. You learn to move on and in that, you’ll  _allow_  Bucky to move on.  Think on it.”   
  
Steve took the long way home lost in thought.  Usually he was eager to get home to Sarge and Bucky.  Today he felt like he’d be rushing home to his personified guilt.     
  
He had saved Bucky.  Yet it felt like he was just making him a prisoner all over again.  How could he bring him home only to trap him?   
  
“ _Steve_ !” Bucky snapped his fingers in one sharp sound and brought Steve back to the present.    
  
The blond blinked, confusion blanketing him and finding him face to face with Bucky’s concerned eyes.    
  
“What happened?” Bucky asked as soon as Steve’s eyes focused.    
  
“Nothing.”   
  
“My ass, nothing,” Bucky shot back.   
  
Sarge wiggled between them, pacing between their legs, uncomfortable with their anxiety and not being able to help them.   
  
Steve huffed, “I’m fine, Buck.”   
  
“Steve, you were standing in the doorway for a solid minute lost in thought.  That ain’t fine.”    
  
“Then I don’t want to talk about it.”   
  
“You don’t have to talk about it, just let me know if you’re alright or not.”   
  
Steve huffed, “Drop it.”   
  
“For fuck sake Steve, would you let me help you?” Bucky snapped.    
  
Steve sucked in a breath, ready for the fiery attitude to take hold and let his words fly.  Yet he sucked in the breath, swallowed down all the nasty comments he wanted to hurl and buried them.   
  
“Just...give me a little bit.”   
  
Bucky instantly deflated, “Okay.”   
  
Bucky took a step to the side and Steve continued into the apartment and towards his room.  Sarge stared after him, but Bucky pushed him gently in Steve’s direction, the puppy finally trotting off after Steve.    
It was always hard to leave Steve alone when all Bucky wanted to do was fix whatever was ailing him.  It was even harder when Steve insistated on space. So Bucky did what he always did when Steve needed those moments of peace and went about doing any and everything that could keep him occupied.  He cleaned the kitchen up. He straightened up the living room. He watched some tv but couldn’t properly focus. He finally settled at the dining room table, his laptop open and a text book on both his lap and the table.  His fingers hovered over the keys as his eyes scanned the page, only looking up when he heard a throat clear from the entryway.    
  
“Hey,” Bucky said, his hands retreating from the keyboard and straightening himself up.    
  
“About earlier…” Steve started, looking embarrassed.    
  
Bucky waved him off, “It’s fine. I’m not exactly a princess after seeing Banner, either.”    
  
Steve huffed a laugh, coming over and sitting on the other side of the tiny little table and taking a seat.  He carefully watched Bucky as he typed a few more notes in his laptop, carefully shuffling through his text books after his eyes rescanned lines as if he might have missed something the first two times.  Steve felt the small smile that crept onto his lips start to pull into a grimace.    
  
“How’s school been?” Steve asked, realizing he hadn’t asked Bucky about it except once on his first day.    
  
His eyes lit up with excitement, “Oh God, it sucks.”    
  
The two of them laughed, Sarge barking as if he was a part of the conversation.    
  
“That bad?”   
  
Bucky chuckled, “No.  I mean, it’s school. Nothing is ever fun about school.  Except when it’s over. But seriously, it’s not as bad as I thought.  Now that I’m doing better with crowds, this is a real thing. I didn’t think I was going to live, let alone go to college.  I get to do this and go somewhere in life. It’s horrifying but it’s exciting.”   
  
Steve’s face seemed forced.  A smile that was strained a little too tight.  It made concern crease in between Bucky’s brows.    
  
“I’m really, really happy for you Buck.”    
  
“Thanks...you alright, Steve?”   
  
The blond cleared his throat, glancing down and situating himself in the chair.  Bucky felt an uneasiness pool in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right.   
  
“I’ve been thinking…” Steve started, his voice losing some of its resilience.   
  
Bucky’s brows rose, “You gunna go back to school, too?”   
  
Steve laughed, though it didn’t seem natural.  The ball in the pit of Bucky’s stomach got heavier.    
  
“No, no, it’s not that.  It’s. Hm.” Steve squirmed a little in his seat and Bucky’s sense of doom crawled up his back and gripped his shoulders. “I’ve just been thinking.  With our lives. With our paths. You and I.”   
  
For a split second there was a searing, burning, flash of hope that nearly took the breath out of Bucky.    
  
“We’re going different directions, you know?” Steve nearly faltered, but regained his composure and continued. “But we’re still standing still.  I think Bruce is right. I think it’s time for us to split up. Get on with our lives.”    
Bucky was sure someone just punched him in his stomach.  He was sure the air was leaving him because a physical manifestation of pain, not from an emotional slap to the face.  Everything that seemed to be going so perfectly, started to tip and fall.    
  
“I need to get my own place,” Steve plowed on. “Give you the space you need.”   
  
“I don’t need space,” Bucky said incredulously.    
  
This time Steve hesitated, his eyes searching Bucky’s face for the truth.  Yet he knew better. He was holding him back. Bucky would stay back as long as Steve needed it, so Steve needed to do something about it.  He needed to make sure Bucky had the best life possible. If that meant they needed time apart, then so be it. Steve didn’t save him just to ruin him.    
  
“This will be good for us.  It will help us heal.”   
  
“Don’t quote Dr. Banner to me,” Bucky muttered. “Is this what  _you_  want or is this what he’s telling you that you want?”   
  
There was a moment of the two of them staring at each other.  Jaws taut and lips pursed, hands curled into fits in their laps.  Bucky searched his eyes, hoping beyond hope he could see what was going on there.  He knew Dr. Banner had been pushing them both to have their own separate places and their own separate lives.  He just wanted to know if this is what Steve wanted. If deep down past all the therapy bullshit if this is what he truly wanted and needed.  That special bond that they had that usually let them have conversations with just a few looks, seemed to have been shut down. Bucky was in the dark.    
  
Steve swallowed and his eyes dipped down to stare at his hands, “This is what I want.”   
  
Bucky’s lips twitched but he nodded, slowly, looking away.  Sarge whined and came to his side, pressing up against his legs and resting his face on his open textbook still in his lap.    
Bucky’s stomach dropped, like it fell out of him.  He knew he was grimacing. Staring at his dog with his floppy ears and open mouth smile.  His tongue that always seemed to be hanging out of his mouth and his bad breath. His obnoxious whining and funny barks.  How he threw all his weight at you, just plopping in your lap or leaning against your legs. Bucky felt like someone was twisting the knife that was already dug into his chest.    
  
“You’re gunna take Sarge.”   
  
It was a statement more than it was a question.  Sarge was Steve’s the second the big lug laid eyes on him.  Just because he brought Sarge to their shared home didn’t change that.     
  
“Yeah.” Steve nodded, shaking himself out of his slump, “Yes.  I will. That way you can get your service dog. Don’t have to worry about getting denied or anything.”    
  
Bucky wanted to scream and rage.  He didn’t want Steve to leave. He didn’t want him to take their dog.  This stupid fucking dog that he should have a grudge against. This dog that he wanted to hate so much and here he was, his chest aching at the thought of losing him.  He didn’t want to lose them. He wanted them here, with him, every moment of every day. He didn’t want to wake up to silence. He wanted to wake up to Sarge whining to go out.  He wanted to have those mornings where Steve came back from a run with Sarge. Those days where he’d wake up to the noises of Steve and Sarge playing around. He wanted to be able to have that every time the sun rose.  He wanted to keep walking through that door to their dog barking and Steve smiling. Every damn day. He knew it was selfish. He filled himself with that greed of wanting those two all to himself. He didn’t care if it dragged him down and destroyed him.  This is what he needed.    
  
“Doesn’t mean we won’t see ya.  We’ll be around. Right, Sarge?”   
  
The dog barked at the sound of his name, Bucky’s hand still stroking the dog’s head as he absently stared off.   
  
“It’s for the best,” Steve said, his voice straining to mean it.    
  
Bucky nodded, “For the best.”    
  
That night, Sarge whined.    
  
He jumped onto Bucky’s bed to wake him, a cold sweat over his body.  He was back in that prison, cold and scared and hurt. He was mad and worried.  He wanted to go home. He wanted Brooklyn. He wanted Steve.    
As soon as Bucky was woken from his nightmare, the puppy went whimpering across the hall to Steve, where he jumped up on the bed, licking his face as the man was snapped awake from the nightmare.  Bucky was a step away from the IED. Steve was telling him to stop. To turn around and come back. To run. He was begging time to halt and rewind and take them far away from here. But neither time nor Bucky listened.  Bucky took the step. There was a loud noise. Then the ringing in his ears. The high pitched whine. That sharp noise was so familiar. It seemed so far away but this blast was so close.

He sat bolt upright in his bed, his stomach churning with displeasure.  Sarge’s whining wouldn’t stop until Steve acknowledged him. The blond reached up, one hand to rub at his eyes, the other to settle Sarge down.  The puppy stopped his crying the second Steve’s hand was scratching behind his ear.   
  
Steve looked to the doorway, his eyes straining to see across the hall where Bucky had left his bedroom door open.  He clenched his teeth together, his jaw aching from the force. He turned on his side to face the wall, his bare back to the opened door giving him anxiety.  Yet this was his defining moment. He didn’t need to get up and check on Bucky. He was fine. He didn’t need Steve. Steve didn’t have to keep running to Bucky.  Steve knew he just needed to go back to sleep. That was it.    
Yet Sarge hopped off the bed and padded across the hall, his name tag and rabies tag jingling as he hopped onto Bucky’s bed.  He crawled up the mattress to the brunette’s shoulder, licking at his face. Bucky reached up, rubbing his eyes and praying he found no tears.  He turned towards the door, watching the doorway in hopes he’d see Steve appear there, filling the frame like he always did. Instead he just had an empty dark hallway and a dog that he wouldn’t have much longer.    
  
Bucky’s heart had felt so full just yesterday.  Now here he was, facing an emptiness he’d never thought would end. 

* * *

The two of them didn’t speak much in the days that followed.  It was always too awkward. They did manage to be in each other’s presence when at all possible. They tried to carry on conversations like they used to, like it was just another normal day in their normal lives.  It was, oftentimes, difficult. Bucky was hurt and Steve was mad. They didn’t want this. Neither of them did. Steve was convinced though, that this is what they needed. Steve thought he was doing right by Bucky, which is all he ever wanted.  Even if it was going to be awkward for awhile, he knew it would get better. Bucky could finally move on with his life and stop having Steve hold him back.  
  
Steve tried to tell Bucky about the room he was going to be renting from Tony.  A little loft not too terribly far from here. He offered suggestions on who could take his room and help with the rent, though if he offered Natasha one more time Bucky might just finally snap.    
  
The only time Bucky walked away was when Steve started taping boxes together to get them ready to fill.  Bucky didn't want to watch all of that. He wanted to burn the damn boxes and tell Steve he couldn't leave.  That he belonged there, right here, with him. He wanted to tell him to stay and that he was in love with him.    
  
But he knew he wouldn’t.  He couldn’t. If this is what Steve needed to get better, then Bucky would set everything aside to let him better himself.  He’d never hold Steve back. Yet it didn’t make it hurt any less.    
Showing up to therapy was difficult.  Bucky wanted to kick the door down and go in swinging.  He wanted Banner to rot in hell for ruining what he had going for him.  Instead he stood outside the office, his eyes closed for a moment and he calmed himself with the deep breathing he had been taught.   
  
He walked himself through rational thought.    
  
Dr. Banner wasn’t out to get him.  Dr. Banner wasn’t trying to ruin his life.  Bruce was his friend and was trying his best to help him with what he thought was best for them.  Bruce truly thought that for them to move forward in their lives, they had to learn to function on their own and without the other.  He couldn’t blame someone for helping in the best way they saw fit. Especially a doctor and more importantly, a friend.    
Bucky checked in with his temper gone.  He was calm and damn near rational. He was pretty sure he had it under control.  Until Dr. Banner appeared in the doorway with a smile. Then some of Bucky’s newfound resolve cracked.    
When Bucky was settled in Dr. Banner’s office, he had to check himself several times to ensure he wasn’t glaring.  Bruce wasn’t an idiot though and jumped right to it.    
  
“You seem mad.”

“I am.”

“Want to tell me why?’

_Because you're ruining my life!_

“The move.”

Bruce nodded, seeming to expect this. “Do you understand why this is happening?”

Bucky was sneering at the doctor. “Because you think it's what's best for us.  Because this way we can move on with our lives. Leave the past behind and move forward.  Yes Bruce. I know. You’ve reiterated it enough.”

“You don't agree with it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and then shut them. He took a second to take a long breath in and out.  Bruce was just a man looking in from the outside of two friends who seemed dangerously codependent. He was just a friend trying to help.  

Bucky opened his eyes, a deep sadness there. “I understand, Bruce.  I do. That doesn't mean I have to like it.”

“Of course.  It's uncomfortable.”

_It's goddamn unbearable._

“Talk to me, don't just glare.”

Bucky pursed his lips, stopping himself from rolling his eyes.  He stared at his long time friend who was surrounded by this aura of patience.  He just wanted to help. He wanted to do what he needed to do to help. This man who used to have a fuse for his temper that was lit over anything.  Now here he was, in control, desperate to have his friends move on from their traumas and go about their lives. He was waiting, ready to pounce on the opportunity to help Bucky forward.

“I don’t want him to leave.”  
  
Bruce nodded, his lips barely tugging down. “Which is normal.”   
  
“How am I supposed to sleep if he’s somewhere else?”   
  
“Now it might be hard at first.” Bruce jumped in. “Getting used to an empty apartment.  Soon you can have your service dog and it won’t be so quiet. Maybe get a roommate to fill up his room.  The first few nights will be hard. You’ll have to go through all the steps. Phone off, no television, and a dark room.”   
  
Bucky was shaking his head, he finally was doing it long enough that Bruce stopped talking.    
  
“I can’t sleep without him.”   
  
“James…” Bruce barely contained a sigh.   
  
“We’ve been sleeping in the same bed,” Bucky finally said. “We realized we could sleep and not have nightmares when we slept in the same bed.”   
  
“You two have been sleeping in the same bed?  Bucky.” Bruce said like he was chastising a child.  “I can’t help you two move on from all of this if you two won’t move on from yourselves.  Move on from each other. You’re hindering your own progress.”   
  
“I am making progress.”   
  
“You are not, if-”   
  
“No Bruce.  No. I’m back in school.  I’m taking classes and I’m showing up.  I’m working. I’m getting out of the house.  I’m socializing. I’m doing everything I need to do to better myself.”    
  
Better himself to be the person he knows he can be.  The person he needs to be. The person Steve deserves.    
  
“Bucky, listen.”   
  
“No, Bruce! You listen! Listen to me.  Listen to me as your friend...Not your patient.  As Bruce and not Dr. Banner. I’m in love with Steve.  I have been since I was a kid. Since I saw that stubborn little shit trying to fight the world just to try to get it to realize how unfair it was being. I joined the Army so I could make something of myself for him.  So I can get through school and get a proper job and a permanent home. Every single breath that has been pushed out of my body and every step I have made - one after the other after the  _other_  -  _all_  of it, has been for him.  As James, the veteran and Prisoner of War, I can move on.  I can live by myself, keep going to school, focus on work. I can keep busy.  I can get that fancy fucking dog and go about my life. But as Bucky, just me stripped of the medals and the baggage and  _everything_  I have been through, cannot live without him.”    
  
Bruce searched his face, his friend done with his words and simply stared quietly.  Bucky was shaking, hyperventilating a little and it was quite clear he had kept this bottled up for some time. Like a secret he was ready to take to the grave.  Didn’t want to risk it. Now he was ready to put it all out there.   
  
“As your doctor, I’d like to say that you need to move on.”   
  
Bucky instantly deflated, the breath leaving him.    
  
“As your friend, I think you’ve confessed to the wrong person.”   
  
Bucky let out a helpless little chuckle, disbelieving.    
  
“Session over, James. Go home.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate and marched out of the office and started the walk back to his apartment.  Maybe he should run before he lost the will to tell him? Before all this adrenaline left himself and he was left staring at Steve silently as he packed up his stuff to leave.   
  
Bruce let out a heavy sigh in his office, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.  He never would have thought the breakthrough he’d been trying so hard to get to, the thing that he was sure was a classic case was codependency, would have been the fact that his two patients were in love.   
  
Bucky ended up jogging, a few times stopping himself from digging into a run.  It wasn’t like the apartment was far from Bruce’s office. He and Steve both always walked there.  Now it seemed like home was a state away.    
He finally saw the building in sight, slowing down his jog to a fast walk, and began digging his keys from his pockets.  He jammed his key in the lock before plowing in the door, Sarge barking excitedly and rushing him.    
  
“Not now, bud,” Bucky muttered, trying to sidestep the dog but the puppy kept jumping up on him.  They still hadn’t mastered ‘down’, no matter how many times Bucky tried to push that through his clenched teeth. “Steve!”   
  
“Buck?” Steve called back from his bedroom. “Yes!  Steve, hey-”   
  
“I need to talk to you, right now,” Steve called, coming out and down the short little hallway.    
  
Bucky bent down to pick up the dog - now needing both arms - and holding him.  He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he needed a damn second and the puppy would not give it to him.   
  
“That’s what I was...”   
  
Steve took the dog  from his arms and set him down, snapping his fingers and Bucky’s eyes nearly fell out of his head when Sarge sat obediently.   
  
“I’m not leaving,” Steve said suddenly. “I don’t care what Dr. Banner says, I’m not moving because he’s telling me I need to.  Unless  _you_  yourself tell me to get out, I’m not going anywhere.”    
  
“That’s-”   
  
Steve started talking over him, “I knew since the first day I met you that I’d never leave your side.” Steve let out in a shaky stumble of words.  “Ever since you talked that little hot head down from the edge. Technically I was on the ground with a bloody nose, but that’s besides the point.”    
  
Bucky huffed a little laugh, his eyes searching Steve's face.  It felt as if he was having a surreal out of body experience. Like he was on the sidelines processing this.  The words tumbling from Steve's lips all wrapped in a dream. He waited for someone to wake him.    
  
“I have helplessly followed you ever since,” Steve let the words spill from his lips.  “You’ve bailed me out of more losing fights than I care to remember. You’ve patched me up more than I’d like to admit.  You’ve picked me up and dusted me off. You’ve just sat by my bed during helpless moments of sickness and made me feel like the toughest son of a bitch in all of Brooklyn, when I knew damn well I wasn’t.  I followed you all over Brooklyn, all the way overseas, behind enemy lines and then back home. I should have told you when we got home. I should have told you when you woke up in the hospital. I should have told you when I found you.  I should have told you before you left for boot I should have told you when I graduated. I should have told you before high school. I should have told you the second I realized it and every moment in between.”   
  
“Steve-”   
  
“Please let me say it,” Steve whispered, Sarge whining next to him, never a fan of Steve’s anxieties.   
  
Bucky nodded, pressing his lips together and swallowing his words.    
  
“I’m not leaving you, because I love you,” Steve sucked in a breath in shock and let it out shakily, repeating himself, “I love you.”    
  
The air hung between them like a brick wall, the space filled with the weight that melted off of Steve’s shoulders.   
  
There were a few moments that made Steve feel like he was drowning and made Bucky feel like he was flying.  Steve swallowed, feeling like he might have tears come to his eyes he was so scared. Death seemed easier to face.  Bucky was trembling, barely able to contain himself. His lips started to pull into a smile when he began to realize this in fact, wasn’t a dream.  It was very, very real. They were in love. Both of them, in love with each other. All of Bucky’s wildest dreams boiled down to this very moment.   
  
“What are you waiting for?” Bucky said breathlessly. “Finish it.  What kinda punk are ya if you can’t finish what you started?”   
  
Steve’s lips barely parted in shock but he closed the gap swiftly, backing Bucky up a step until his back pressed against the door.  Steve’s hands coming up to frame Bucky’s face before they slid into his hair and then there he was. Lips pressed against Bucky’s with a ferver.  All hot breath and pent up passion. Everything he had been holding in these past years were working their way into making Bucky’s knees weak.    
Steve pulled back breathless, Bucky holding onto his forearms in a desperate bid to keep himself standing.    
  
This was the explosive boy he fell in love with all those years ago in a Brooklyn school yard.    
  
Steve rested his forehead against Bucky’s, their noses grazing and their lips just barely apart.  Bucky kissed either side of his mouth.  He pressed small kisses to both cheeks. He pulled his head back and rested it against the door, Steve’s hands falling away.  They went to his shoulders and smoothed down a path from his arms to his hands, Bucky lacing their fingers together when Steve’s hands got there.    
  
“I love you, you hot headed, stubborn little shit.  Every last bit of you.”   
  
Steve let a giddy laugh bubble up and slip past his lips.  His eyes crinkled at the corners. It turned into a laugh of disbelief.  Bucky untangled their fingers and reached up to grab the back to Steve’s neck, pulling those lips back to his.   Steve pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching Bucky’s face as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.     
  
“I booked it from Bruce’s.  I came in like a bat out of hell to tell you I love you and I couldn’t stand to have you leave.  I didn’t care about the consequences anymore; if you reciprocated or not and what that meant for our friendship.  Then here you come, worked yourself up into a tizzy, stealing all my thunder.”    
  
This time Steve threw his head back he laughed so hard, and it brought a smile to Bucky’s lips.  He loved making him laugh like that.   
  
“This is unreal,” Steve whispered.  He was searching Bucky’s face, his hands running up and down his arms like he had to touch something tangible to make himself realize this was real.   
  
Sarge barked from between them, jamming himself between their legs, his tail wagging excitedly.  It was like he knew something big just happened and he was excited about it, but he just didn’t know what.    
The two laughed, Steve crouching down and Bucky sliding down against the door until he was seated.  The two men were grinning, petting the dog and talking to him like he understood everything that had just transpired.    
  
“We aren’t leaving, pal.”    
  
Bucky nodded, patting the dog on his hip, “Yeah.  The three musketeers are sticking together.”   
  
Sarge was ecstatic even though he didn’t know what was going on, but he loved the attention.  He barked in excitement.    
  
“You look tired, Buck.” Steve noticed aloud.    
  
Bucky let out an obnoxious tut, “Thanks.  I appreciate the compliment. I’ve never had so much fucking anxiety in my life.   Is this what the after effects of being electrocuted are?”   
  
Steve laughed and shook his head, “Come on.  Let’s go lay down.”   
  
Bucky nudged Sarge with his foot, making the puppy turn to him, his tongue hanging from his mouth as his whole body swayed from his tail going crazy.     
  
“Nap time?”   
  
Sarge barked and barked and barked.  He ran down the hall and came right back when he realized they weren’t following him.  The two of them chuckled. They took their time to stand, groaning at their aching joints and then laughing at each others noises.    
  
“Let’s go, old man Rogers.”    
  
Steve scoffed, “Okay, sure, I’m the only one that sounds like someone breaking apart kit-kats when I stand.”   
  
This made Bucky laugh just as Sarge was coming back to bark at them again.  Bucky occasionally regretted teaching Sarge nap time. Yet as the dog barked and the two of them shuffled along to follow him, Bucky didn’t mind.  He set his hand against Steve’s lower back as if guiding him into the room. It was a small gesture that Bucky was going to be indulging in for the rest of their foreseeable days together.    
He had longed to reach out and touch Steve so much and so often growing up that now that he could, he didn't want to stop.  He wanted to find all the reasons and excuses he could dig up so he could feel his warm skin. The way his muscles moved as he walked.  The way he barely shifted towards that touch.    
  
Sarge grabbed his favorite toy - his frisbee - and jumped up on the bed, curling up at the end where they could always maneuver around him.    
  
“Did you bring my stuff in here?” Bucky inquired, seeing his pillow and blanket on the bed.    
  
Steve nodded, barely bashful but Bucky could see it. “I was going to tell you that this was the only place that felt like home.”    
  
Bucky’s eyebrows rose, his throat barely tightening from the reality of it all, “You sentimental little shit.”   
  
Steve laughed again, the type that came from the gut after catching you by surprise.  If Bucky could bottle that sound he could live off of that joy alone, but he’d never tell Steve that.  The teasing would be relentless.    
Bucky grabbed at Steve’s bicep - nearly forgetting what he was going to say or do at the feel of it - and brought the blond’s attention to him.  Bucky stepped forward, his hand gliding from Steve’s bicep, to his pec, to trailing down and feeling each etch of stomach muscle as the tips of his fingers dripped down his torso.  His eyes were locked on Steve’s, the blond licking his lips and having his eyes wander to Bucky’s mouth.    
  
“Is this okay?” Bucky whispered. “I’ve always wanted…”    
  
He trailed off, not exactly knowing how to continue.  He didn’t want to come on too strong and rush things that didn’t need to happen yet.  He had waited what felt like an eternity already. He wanted that bare flesh hot and sweating underneath his fingers. Before he continued on he needed to know if Steve was on the same page and comfortable. S teve glanced back over his shoulder, Sarge already in a peaceful sleep on their comfortable bed, his eyes going back to Bucky’s face with his eyes full of   
want.    
  
“Me too,” Steve whispered, grabbing Bucky’s wrist and guiding his hand under his shirt.  Steve could hear Bucky swallow a gulp.    
  
Steve’s hand slid up Bucky’s forearm to his bicep then dragged over go his chest, licking his lips in the most suggestive way he could muster without looking like an idiot.  He barely pushed Bucky backwards, enough that the brunette got the hint and began the slow steps backwards and out the door. As they crossed the hall Bucky’s pace quickened when he caught on to Steve's intent, grabbing a hold of the front of Steve’s jeans and pulling the blond to him to connect their lips.    
Bucky pushed back against Steve, reaching behind him and shoving the door closed to his room before pushing the blond against it.  This kiss was shared with more vigor, more passion and more desperation. Every moment in all the years they had clung to these secrets and now they finally spilled out in all their eagerness. Steve was the best kisser Bucky had ever encountered.  His tongue, with all its wild maneuvers in his mouth, led Bucky’s brain to think of all the other ways it would be incredible. The way he panted into Bucky’s mouth made his groin react. Steve pulled back, reaching down and tugging his shirt up and over his head, making Bucky stop in his tracks.     
  
Steve reached forward, giving Bucky time to have his eyes dance over every inch of his skin while the brunette thought of all the things he could do to this man.  This beautiful, perfect, downright sexy man.    
  
“ _Fuck_ …” Bucky breathed.   
  
Steve tugged a little on Bucky’s shirt, his eyebrows raised his question and the brunette snapped out of it long enough to nod.  Nothing was sexier to Bucky at that moment than having Steve rogers slowly peel his shirt off, taking his time in a small tease, enjoying every second.  The moment Steve had finally taken the shirt off, Bucky was on his mouth again. His hands roamed Steve’s naked torso. He wanted his mouth on it. He wanted to kiss and lick and suck his way around Steve’s body.  Bucky sucked on Steve’s bottom lip as he was caught up in that moment, making Steve gasp out a small whimper driving Bucky crazy.    
  
Steve grabbed hold of Bucky’s hips, pulling him flush against him and leaving the brunette gasping when he felt their erections press against each other.  Bucky shifted his hips as they hovered just over Steve’s, rocking himself forward and nearly losing it when Steve let out another moan he was trying so hard to hold back.    
  
Bucky’s hands were still roaming Steve's body in a slow bid to feel every inch of the hot skin, his fingers grazing over a nipple and feeling the blond barely tense.  He went back to it, his thumb rubbing back and forth over it, causing Steve to moan into Bucky’s mouth as he rocked his hips forward. Bucky was convinced he was going to cum without even being touched at this rate.    
  
Steve barely pulled back, his lips ghosting against Bucky’s as he spoke. “Again.”   
  
Bucky didn’t hesitate to oblige, gently pinching the nipple and having Steve’s mouth back on his with that hot moan sounding off in the back of Steve’s throat.  The two of them pressed against the door, grinding into one another as they tried to keep their moaning at a reasonable level.    
  
Steve’s hand finally came to grab at the waist line of Bucky’s jeans, his fingers gripping at the button, “Can I?”   
  
Bucky let out a rushed and whispered, “ _Please_.”

Bucky reached forward himself, his hands grabbing Steve's pants and making eye contact and Steve responding with pressing his lips to Bucky's.  They were a tangle of limbs as they scrambled to get each other out of their pants. Bucky had always imagined that if he ever had the chance to have sex with Steve he would take his time.  He'd be slow and methodical and he would have him begging for more. Yet here they were, like desperate horny teenagers scrambling to rip their clothes off.  They succumbed to taking their own clothes off, too impatient to undress each other.  Steve kicked his pants across the room just as Bucky stripped himself of his boxers before taking the step towards Steve and turning him away from the door, beginning to back him towards the bed.  

“My boxers,” Steve muttered out before Bucky was back to kissing him, letting the brunette steer him.

Bucky stopped moving them forward just an inch before they found the bed.  He pressed on Steve's chest, the blond bending to the slight pressure and sitting, breaking the contact of their lips.  

“Lay back,” Bucky whispered.  

Steve's cock twitched in anticipation.  He had never heard Bucky sound like that.  Calm and controlled under a blanket of lust.  Typically, at any point, if Bucky had told Steve to do something the blond would probably give Bucky a look or a few choice words.  This time he laid back on his elbows, refusing to go further or break eye contact.  Bucky smirked at his stubbornness, kneeling down in between his knees and had his hands run down Steve's sides and stopping at his boxer line.  The brunette came up, one knee coming up to the left side of Steve on the bed, the other he let his thigh lightly graze Steve's crotch, smirking when the blond had his lips part before swallowing hard.  

“Move back.”

The blond inched up the bed, Bucky righting himself and putting both feet back on the floor as he looked down as Steve; Bucky in between his legs.  He gave himself a breath to steady himself before stooping down, his lips pressing below Steve's naval. Steve's chest began to rise and fall a little faster, his eyes tracking Bucky's lips as they moved across his stomach.    
  
“Tell me what turns you on,” Bucky whispered as he kissed his way up Steve’s stomach.

Bucky could do this alone forever, just memorizing Steve's skin with the feel of his lips.  Steve felt his jaw go slack, all his wildest fantasies playing out in front of him. How the hell was he supposed to form words and answer him?  Bucky's eyes flicked up to watch him as he pressed another kiss and Steve swore.  Bucky gave the smallest smirk in response.  Kissing Steve on the stomach was a turn on, no words needed.    
  
“What else?” Bucky whispered against his skin.  He hovered over Steve’s nipple, his eyes flicking back up to Steve's as his tongue pressed and licked a small circle.  Steve was panting as he bit his bottom lip. It felt so good with Bucky’s hot mouth.

Steve wrapped his fingers in Bucky's hair as he moaned while Bucky worked his nipple over.  Steve tugged at his hair, Bucky coming up with a little gasp and letting Steve guide him up to his lips.  

“This,” Steve said as he pulled just slightly harder and Bucky let out a low moan, his lips finally connecting to Steve's.

Bucky was skillful with his teasing, Steve realized.  His prosthesis was next to Steve's head, propping him up, his other resting on Steve's face, holding him steady.  His body hovered just out of reach, Steve able to feel the heat from his body but nothing more.  Bucky reached up, grabbing a fist full of hair and lightly tugging, making Steve moan against Bucky's mouth.  The brunette rewarded him with a shift of his body and a roll of his hips. Feeling Bucky's cock slide against his with just the thin fabric of Steve's boxers made it even hotter.  Bucky rolled his hips again, Steve letting his head drop to the mattress and gasping, pressing his hips up to meet Bucky’s.

“That feels so good,” Steve whispered.  

Bucky continued grinding their dicks together, lowering his head so his lips could taste more of Steve's skin.  He released his hold on Steve's hair to grab at his chin, moving it up and out of his way and he kissed and gently sucked and nibbled at his neck. Steve arched his hips towards Bucky, making the brunette smile against his neck.

“That.  Keep doing that,” Steve panted.

Bucky went back to his task of taking Steve Roger's apart with his mouth alone, working the area as best as he could without leaving a mark.  It was hard to let his lips leave the skin and give it a break. The moans that would get drawn out of Steve's throat were like a streak of lightning down through Bucky's stomach and straight to his cock.  Steve moans alone were the biggest turn on of Bucky's life. He pressed a last long kiss there, his mind wondering what else he could do to Steve to drive him wild and then talking his time getting there.

Bucky's lips began to explore, enjoying the rewards full of gasping every time he managed a small bite.  He took his time as he went down Steve's body, tasting his skin and going a snail's pace. Steve was losing patience.  His moans we're turning to grunts, his grunts to annoyed little noises in the back of his throat.

“Patience.” Bucky said, his finger tip curling underneath Steve's boxers.  

He swiped back and forth, looking up and locking eyes with Steve.  

“If we're moving too fast we can stop.”

Steve's gave a breathy laugh, “Bucky we have been moving too slow for years.  Don't stop.” Steve's face suddenly flushed a deep pink before he licked his lips.

“I want you.  In every way imaginable.”

Bucky righted himself and he stood in front of him, dragging Steve's boxers and managed them off.  He kneeled between Steve's legs, causing the blond to prop himself up on his elbows again. Bucky took the briefest of moments to kiss the inside of Steve's thigh as if thanking his body for existing. He grabbed Steve's cock with his flesh hand and he began pumping it at a steady speed off the bat.  Steve let his head drop back for a moment at the feel.

He felt Bucky nip at his thigh and Steve’s head snapped up.

“Eyes up,” Bucky said, his hand stopping.

He kept his hand there, releasing his fingers but still keeping his palm on Steve's dick.  He moved forward, dragging his tongue from the base to head of his cock, making Steve forget how to breathe. Bucky placed his lips around the head, sucking and swirling his tongue and making Steve drop back to being flat on his back.  It was the most sensitive area and giving it a lot of stimulation made it feel like you were just about to cum but just couldn't finish.  Steve was gasping when Bucky moved down the shaft and then back up.  

“Holy shit,” Steve let out breathlessly.

Bucky continued the suction, sloppy noises chasing his lips as he bobbed up and down. Steve was moaning and whispering curses under his breath, ushering Bucky go faster.  When he would bite out Bucky's name between moans, Bucky’s cock would twitch. When he would go until Steve's dick would hit the back of his throat, Steve would arch his back just the slightest.  Bucky's mouth gave a reprieve, coming off of Steve's cock and actually making the man give the smallest sounds of disappointment.  He tried to sit up but Bucky's metal hand came to rest on his chest with gentle pressure.

“Stay there.  I'm not finished.  I haven't made you beg, yet.”

Steve's face, already flushed, grew more red.  He swallowed.

“Is that a threat?” Steve asked, a smirk to his lips even though he still had them parted to breathe.  

Bucky smiled, “No.  Not at all.” He gave a small bite to Steve's inner thigh again which made the blond jump and gasp.  “Just a promise.”

Bucky kissed his way up Steve's thigh and to his hip bone.  He reached under his bedside table to the box where he kept all his things he needed for pleasure.  He wrapped it in his fingers around what he needed and got up off his knees and climbed up the bed until he was hovering completely over Steve.  He pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before he held up the lube.

“Are you sure?”

Steve was quiet for a moment and Bucky was about ready to tell him it was okay. That they had all the time in the world to have sex.  They didn't have to rush. No problem. He waited most of his life for this, he could keep going.

But Steve had a mouth on him.

“I've always wanted to feel you inside me.”

Bucky immediately dropped his lips to Steve's.  

He went back down, back to his  knees on the floor I'm between Steve's legs as if he was worshiping his cock.  He popped open the top of the lube and poured it on his fingers. He sucked Steve's cock again to divert his attention to his fingers.  The first one always stung and the second Steve hissed at the intrusion, Bucky's clever tongue dance around the head of his dick and made the man moan. The longer he worked at the blond the more Steve relaxed, trying to rock his hips back to Bucky's fingers.  

“Faster Buck,” Steve panted.

Bucky pulled his mouth off of Steve's cock, looking up with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You sure?”

Steve nodded his head and Bucky rose from his knees.  He put one foot flat on the floor and his other knee on the bed.  He propped himself up with one hand. He started slow when he started back up.  Steve moaned impatiently at it.

“Patience.”

“Bucky, I said faster.”

The brunette had one eyebrow hitch up, “It was a demand?”

The pace slowed even more, making Steve groaned louder.

“Magic word.”

“Please,” Steve pleaded with a moan.

“Please what?”

“Finger me until I can't take it.”

Bucky immediately started pumping his fingers in and out of Steve hard and fast.  He was giving him everything he wanted. The blond threw his head back, moaning and gasping.  

“Buck.  Bucky...oh shit that feels so damn good.  Please don't stop. Ple -  _oh,_  holy shit please! Please! Bucky please don't stop I'm going to cum.  Fuck. Fuck!”

Steve's last plea was a harsh curse.  He had been so close. The feel of Bucky's fingers inside him, fast and hard and so damn good.  Bucky kissed his inner thigh again - his new favorite spot it seemed - as he rose up. He began dripping lube on his cock and jerking his dick before kneeling on the bed.  He lifted Steve's legs before the blond took control and lifted them higher, bringing his knees back until Bucky grabbed his leg to stop him. “Bucky…”

The brunette stopped, his eyes flicking to Steve's at his tone, all concern.

“I'm fine,” Steve said dismissively before a deep flush covered his entire face.  “Just, I might... I might cum fast.”

Bucky let out the smallest little laugh, working his own cock with his hand before kissing Steve's knee.

“Steve, we both probably will.  Just try not to say anything sexy because otherwise this isn't even going to start before I finish.”

Steve's mischievous smile made an appearance as Bucky set the head of his cock at Steve's hole.  The blond grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Bucky's face to him, his lips parting as Bucky started pushing in.  Steve pulled the brunette's hair, stopping Bucky a breath from his lips, making Bucky moan.

“Fuck me.  Make me say your name.” Steve bit his lip and sucked on it, having Bucky gasp from it. “When you cum inside me, when you - ah! Fuck. When you do, you'll say my name.”

Bucky was completely inside of Steve, tight and hot and wet.  Steve's words stirring in his brain and it was a miracle alone he didn't finish.  

He pulled back the slightest bit before pushing back in.  He pulled his face away from Steve's to see him properly, watching his face for a reaction.  He gasped and rocked his hips, his grip on Bucky's hair was never going to leave. He pulled back slightly and Steve rocked his hips to meet him.  Bucky pulled back further with each thrust, watching Steve's eyes widen and then close as he tossed his head back. He loved watching his lips part as he gasped and moaned and cursed.  Bucky loved every time he thrusted and Steve surprised him with saying his name like a prayer. Fucking Steve was the best sex Bucky ever had.  From the way he moved underneath him, the dirty talk to spilled out, to the feel of Bucky's cock inside of him.  

“Buck.  Faster. Please.  Please. Make me cum.”

“You're sounding needy Rogers,” Bucky teased, slowing his pace even more.  Steve groaned.

“ _Please_.” Steve tried to wiggle under Bucky so he could rock against him, so Bucky indulged him.

The thrusts were fast and hard and Steve’s moans filled the room.  Bucky barely held his in. It felt so good. He could feel that warmth tickle his chest and settle to a pool in his stomach.  He was getting closer to finishing than he wanted. He wanted this to last forever. He grabbed ahold of Steve's cock with his hand and began to desperately pump him as fast as possible.  

“Yes!” His head was flung back, one hand had fingers curled in Bucky's hair, the other clutching sheets.  “Don't stop. Oh fuck Bucky I'm going to cum. Yes, yes, yes, Bucky!”

The pool was building in Bucky’s stomach.  It was like it had gathered in a tiny balloon and ached to pop.

“Cum for me,” Steve gasped.

Steve arched his back just slightly and he tensed up, Bucky still pumping his cock as he came.

“Oh fuck, Steve.”  The clench from Steve cumming was the last final straw as he continued pumping his hips into him, filling him and Bucky thrusted into him as he rode of his orgasm.  Quaking, Bucky bent down, pressing his lips to Steve as he pulled out before he rolled to his side and collapsed next to Steve. They both struggled to catch their breath, panting into the air in hopes their hearts would calm.  

Bucky laid his arm out flat just above Steve's head.  He patted it until Steve looked up and got the hint; lifting his head and letting it rest on Bucky's arm.  The cool metal felt fantastic to his heated skin. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

“God, you're beautiful,” Bucky whispered.  

Steve turned his head and opened his eyes to Bucky leaning in to kiss him, the blond eager to meet them.  He loved kissing Bucky. He couldn't get enough of it.

“I need to shower,” Steve said against his lips.

“We both do.  And we need to strip the sheets.”

The two of them stayed put, their faces still close together.  Their smiles finally made an appearance.

Steve was chuckling, “Go on.”

“You first,” Bucky said through repressed laughter.  

“I'm going.”

“Your legs broke?”

Steve laughed, “Are yours?”

Bucky laughed harder before he sighed, collecting Steve towards him with his arm and pressing a long kiss to his forehead.  

“I love you.”

“I love you.  Seriously though Buck?  You'll have to carry me.”

There was a whining noise at the door, the two of them lifting their heads to look there.  As if Sarge knew that they heard him, he cued the theatrics, whining louder and more pathetic than he had ever managed.  He even gave a sad little quiet bark to accent the point.

Steve laughed, laying back and sighing, running a hand down his face. Bucky and Steve both sighed and both sat up at the same time, making the two of them laugh.  

“Can you grab the sheets?  I have to b-line for the shower.”

Bucky shooed him along.  The blond opened the door and shuffled around Sarge and made his way to the bathroom, cranking on the shower and jumping in before the water even warmed.  

Bucky was quickly behind him.  He tossed the sheet in the hamper, grabbed a couple towels from the closet and left the door open.  Sarge followed him, always the one to hang out while either of them showered.

Bucky hopped in, grabbing the bar of soap and smirking at the blond.

“Now I get to wash you?  All my fantasies are happening in one day.”

Bucky reached out, his hands running over Steve's chest, lathering him up and stopping for a moment to pinch his nipple.

“You're trouble.”  Steve said after his gasp.

“Yeah, and I'm all yours"

* * *

  
* **Four years later** *

 

“Where's the box for pictures?” Bucky called out.

“In here!” Steve called back.  Sarge barked like he agreed.

Bucky came in the room, Steve in his dirty old painting jeans and a shirt ripped and smeared with paint, they hugged Steve in all the right spots.  They were Bucky's favorite pair.

“How's it coming?”

Steve sighed heavily, “I hate packing.”

“I know.  I still stand by my offer.  You go start setting up the bed and some of the essentials,” Bucky walked over, wrapping his arms around Steve from behind and placing a kiss on his upper back.  He pressed the framed photos to Steve's chest as he hugged him.

“Sarge and I can do this.”

The dog barked again from the empty old mattress that was Steve's bed.  When they finally got their townhouse they decided they needed a bed that properly fit the three of them.

Steve grabbed the frame and held it as Bucky detached himself, the blond smiled at the pictures as he glanced at them.

“Where was this hidden?”

Bucky shrugged, “In the other room, above my desk.”

Steve smiled at the wedding pictures.  The day was a shit show. The cake fell.  The photographer was ill. The ceremony was supposed to be outside, but torrential downpour forced them inside - in the middle of the ceremony no less.  Soaking wet and shivering, they continued in the reception hall. The power went out.

In the dark, with cell phone flashlights and tea lights as their guide, they did it.  

Steve ran his finger along the picture of the two of them with Sarge.  They had gotten him a vest and a tie. They strapped a little box to the back of it and he was their ring bearer.  Bucky had lifted the pup and was caught laughing in the picture, Sarge mid bark and Steve looking at the two of them as if they were the world.  

The other picture was Steve and Bucky with their friends on either side as they said their vows.  Tony, Sam, Natasha and Bruce. Everyone was laughing except Steve who was smirking - he had said something snarky. They wrote their own vows.

The next was the three of the.  The two of them after the reception was finished, sitting outside on the steps of the building under the overhang and pressed shoulder to shoulder.  Hands locked together as they watched the sky. Sarge had sat on the steps behind them, laying his head on their pressed shoulders.

“Above your desk?”

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissing it.

“When school gets hard or work gets overwhelming, I need a reminder as to why I'm doing it.*

There was a sweet silence as Steve admired his husband, his eyes dancing around his face.  Bucky pursed his lips. He could see it. He could see Steve's face transforming and his shoulders shaking.  Bucky rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Cheesy little shit.”

Bucky's resolved cracked and he smiled.  He recovered quickly flicking at Steve's arm.  “Okay. I'm the only one. Wanna tell me what's the picture in your wallet?”

Steve laughed harder, completely called out.    
  
Bucky pulled back, smiling, "You're not going to admit it, Rogers? Fine. Sarge?”

The dog barked and Steve made a break for the door.  He had been on the wrong side of Bucky and Sarge's bullying before.

“Get dad!  Pants!”

Sarge went dashing out the door and Bucky began laughing the second he heard the thud in the living room and Steve's laughter followed after.  He sounded close to tears he was laughing so hard. Bucky came to the hallway, watching on as Sarge had his mouth clamped around the bottom of Steve's jeans and he was doing his damnedest to get them off.  Steve and Bucky both were losing their minds laughing. Sarge won out. He shook his head to free the jeans of Steve's ankles, leaving the man a laughing mess in just his boxers.

Bucky took the jeans from the dog, giving him scratches and pats and telling him how good of a boy he was.  Sarge wondered back to Steve and laid on the floor with him, licking his face, too. Bucky dropped the pants coming over to Steve, laying on the floor next to him, the laughter dying down.

“Worst thing you ever taught him.”

“Because he won't do it for you.”

Steve laughed again but it was cut short by a knock on the door.  

Tony's voice came through muffled, “Movers are here!  Meaning I wasn't going to lug your crap and paid for movers.  Hustle!”

They both rolled their eyes.  It was typical Tony fashion.

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand, still lying on the floor, and kissed his fingers. “Ready?”

“Not really.”

“Well move your ass Roger’s, I am not throwing away free labor. I'd bet this arm Tony will leave in a few minutes if we don't greet him.”

Steve groaned, long and obnoxious.

Sarge barked and the two men laughed.

“Alright,” Steve said, “that's enough from the both of ya’s!”

* * *

[Here's Our Fic WITH ARTWORK](http://izulkowa.tumblr.com/post/174305988866/for-cap-reverse-big-bang-2018-capreversebb-all) on Tumblr  
  
[The Amazing Artist on Tumblr](http://izulkowa.tumblr.com/)  
  
[This Writer on Tumblr ](nevifail.tumblr.com%20%20%20)


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